Uthred of Bamburgh
by Michael Doyle

The blood runs deep
As Saxon mothers weep
Satan has crossed the lands
Under blood thirst's craven command

Vahalla's gates open wide
Watching as seven kings died
The Valkyries accept the death
As Uthred draws his last breath

A hero though rarely named
If England was lost, he was not to blame
A real man keeps his sacred word
Despite the betrayals that had occurred

Though cold winter, the flames heat
Flickers in turn rise to greet
Burning hearts heed the flames
As a hero falls, Uthred, by name

By his oath the sky will burn
In the halls of Bamburgh, we learn
That some fiction is based on history
A family's ties with Sir Lancelot the last mystery

(c) April 17, 2023  Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved